


You're A War Hero

by scarletladyy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-13 14:21:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletladyy/pseuds/scarletladyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron's been roped in to one of Hermione's good causes yet again, only this time with a guarantee that he won't suffer. Unfortunately, Hermione can't really make that guarantee, and Ron is less than impressed when Malfoy gets involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're A War Hero

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was based off the following prompt:  
> Set during the year after DH. Hermione thinks it would be a jolly way to raise money for war orphanages to have a slave auction and persuades Ron to put himself up for auction, the plan being that she will win him herself. Harry's current mission is House Integration and DE redemption. He gets all the former Slytherins involved.
> 
> I absolutely adored this prompt, but I knew there was a very obvious place it could go. I wanted to write something different for a change, so I hope it's okay that the outcome is a little unexpected :) 
> 
> Written for the ron_draco_fest 2013. Thank you to my beta, nearlyconscious.

"Oh, Ron, _please_. It really would help to have you there. You're a war hero, after all."

Ron smirked at that. He loved being referred to as a war hero, though it incensed him that Hermione knew just how to get to him. "No! Anyone could bid on me."

"Yes, but _I_ will win you. I guarantee it." She placed a delicate hand upon his. "Please. You'd be doing me a massive favour. I'd owe you one."

"You guarantee it? Absolutely, completely, one hundred per cent?" Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "And you wouldn't make me do anything stupid?"

"No, of course not," Hermione assured him. "You know me. Besides, I'm organising it. I can ensure that only I will win you regardless of who else bids."

Ron thought it over. It would be a great way to get back into Hermione's good books again. Forgetting her birthday had been nothing more than an accident, but she didn't seem to see it the same way. It might even get him some extra publicity; Harry was constantly being followed and talked about, and Hermione was always putting herself in the limelight, but people tended to forget about him. It was as though his role in the war just wasn't enough. "Fine," Ron said at last.

"Brilliant!" Hermione practically jumped off her stool to give him a hug. "Thank you. You're a lifesaver." She gave him a peck on the cheek and Ron flushed; they were in public, and Hermione rarely showed any affection outside so he wasn't used to it. They weren't going out anymore; Ron had ended it seven months ago when he realised it just wasn't working. Still, that didn't mean he didn't still want to be her best friend, and thus in her favour. Neither of them had been out with anyone else, though on Ron's part, not for a lack of trying.

"That was easy," Harry chirped in, having been silently sat beside them for the past few moments. He'd been staring at his beer awkwardly as the two discussed the venture. "Unfortunately, it's not proving as simple to get the Slytherins involved."

"You're getting the Slytherins involved?" _Now they tell me._ "Why?"

"We need all the money we can get, Ron," said Hermione. "It's for a good cause. So many children were left orphans after the war."

"I know, I know." It _was_ for a good cause, but that didn't stop it being anymore awkward by having the Slytherins involved. "When is it? And how many people have signed up?"

"It's next Saturday, and so far we've had..." Hermione looked down at her notebook. "...fifteen people agree. You're the fifteenth."

"What about you?" Ron asked Harry, staring at him pointedly.

"You know I can't do it," Harry said with a sigh. "I'm engaged. It wouldn't be right."

Ron raised an eyebrow at Hermione. "Surely you could guarantee that only Ginny would win him, like you're doing with us?"

Hermione shook her head and fiddled with the buttons on her cardigan. "I can't be seen to be too biased. People wouldn't trust me to run anything."

"I suppose," Ron reluctantly agreed. "Give me all the information then."

*

Saturday rolled around faster than Ron would have liked. Everywhere he'd been all week, he'd seen posters of the event coming up. Each and every single one filled his stomach with butterflies; he believed Hermione would try her best to win him, but he didn't count on it. He knew very well how much her employees hated her; she was a hard taskmaster and ran tempers high. She was fair too, but that didn't seem to count for much when you were up to your eyeballs every week.

They were able to wear whatever they wanted to the auction, but Hermione had insisted upon buying him new robes. He didn't really understand why, when she'd supposedly be the one to win him, but she said she wanted to make a 'good impression'. To save himself any hassle, Ron went along with it, but now, as he stood backstage, ready and waiting for the auction to begin, he felt really stupid. Everyone else had turned up in their everyday robes, whereas Ron's were the style one would wear if he were going to a formal event.

Ron inwardly cursed Hermione as the auctioneer shouted to the crowds, introducing himself and going on about what a fantastic night it would be, how much money would be raised and how it would all go to good causes. He looked around him, did a quick calculation and realised there were only a couple more people than Hermione had had when he'd last seen her, and only two of the entire lot appeared to be Slytherins, as far as Ron could recall. Most of them were Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws; Ron was the only Gryffindor Hermione had managed to rope into it.

"Without further ado, I'd like to introduce Slave #1!"

Ron's stomach churned; _he_ was Slave #1. He hadn't wanted to be, had tried to insist on being a number as late as possible, but Hermione had said it would look good to start with him as he was a war hero. ' _It'll get the ball rolling_ ', she'd said, and again, to save hassle, Ron had gone along with it. He quickly cleared his throat and headed out onto the stage, purposefully avoiding looking anyone in the eye out of sheer and utter embarrassment. There really was nothing worse; facing Voldemort had been easier than this.

"Slave #1 is Mr Ron Weasley, who you'll all remember as one of the golden trio who brought down Voldemort. Who will bid on this fine slave? I'll start the bidding at twenty galleons."

"Twenty galleons!" Hermione's voice piped up, and Ron sighed heavily in relief. He knew she'd keep to her word, but it still helped to hear her cheerful voice.

"Thirty galleons," a tiny voice squeaked out. Ron didn't want to scour to crowds to see who it was; he'd rather not know.

"Forty!" shouted Hermione.

The tiny voice made a bid, and then another unfamiliar one did too. Hermione countered them both, and though it was supposed to be a sure thing that Hermione would win Ron, Ron couldn't help but feel extremely agitated and anxious. Even more so when he heard the next bid and recognised the voice it belonged to.

"One hundred and fifty galleons."

The price was high, nearly double what the last bid was. Ron knew that voice, and just had to look up to confirm exactly who it belonged to. Yes, he was correct. Draco Malfoy had just bid on him. _Now_ he was worried. The Malfoys had a lot of money, and if he kept on bidding, Hermione wouldn't be able to counter him and she wouldn't be able to win. Her foolproof plan wasn't so foolproof after all.

"Er, a hundred and fifty five," Hermione said, though her incredibly shaky voice told Ron that she was extremely worried too. _Great_.

"Two hundred," countered Malfoy, and the smirk upon his face let Ron know that he was deadly serious. This wasn't a joke and he wasn't backing down. When Hermione didn't immediately respond, Ron almost felt like screaming at her. He pleaded with her with his eyes, and eventually, she put up another bid, but it was only five galleons above what Malfoy had. It wasn't going to be enough. The other two contenders were out of the race; it was just Hermione and Malfoy, and Hermione just didn't have that kind of money spare. "Three hundred."

"Three hundred galleons from Mr Malfoy! Anyone else? The bidding is at three hundred galleons."

That was it. Ron could tell by the resigned look on Hermione's face that she wasn't going to put in another bid, and Ron felt his fists clenching up. She had pretty much _guaranteed_ she'd win him, and now Malfoy was going to? He could only imagine why Malfoy was bidding, and those thoughts were far from pleasant.

"Last chance! Any more bids?" Silence. The smirk upon Malfoy's face made Ron want to leap off the stage and punch him. "Three hundred galleons to Mr Malfoy it is!" The gavel was banged and that was that. The auctioneer gestured Ron off the stage, and he really did not know what to do. He had a good mind to go and give Hermione a piece of his mind, but he knew that would do him no good now. He could always refuse to go with Malfoy, but then Malfoy might withdraw his donation and it'd be all over the press how Ron couldn't suck it up for charity. No, that wasn't an option.

"Evening, Mr Weasley."

Ron shot around at the sound of Malfoy's voice. He was so furious that he simply didn't know how to react.

"Cat got your tongue?"

"What the _fuck_ , Malfoy?" Ron's voice was far from quiet, and there were people involved in the organisation all around that were giving him stern looks. He didn't care. "Why did you bid on me?"

"Why not? I'm perfectly within my rights. After all, Harry did say we were more than welcome."

"Yes but—"

"I only agreed to come after being assured you'd put yourself up for auction."

Ron's eyebrows screwed up in confusion and he raked a hand through his increasingly ragged hair. " _What_?"

"I like to do my bit for charity." Malfoy shrugged, as if this were simply no big deal. "Gather your things together, we're leaving."

"What? Why? Where?"

"So many questions, so little time." Malfoy looked at Ron impatiently. "Do you have anything to collect?"

Ron shook his head, resigned to his fate.

"Grab onto my arm, then."

"If you try anything funny, Malfoy," Ron began as he grabbed onto Malfoy's arm.

"Really, Weasley, did you think I bid on you to play Wizard's Chess?"

Before Ron could step back in shock, Malfoy had side-along Apparated them to Merlin knows where. Although when they'd arrived and he'd got his bearings, he recognised the haunting image of Malfoy Manor. That place was firmly implanted in his brain after what had happened with Bellatrix. He shrugged Malfoy off him and took a step back, glaring at him.

" _What_ is going on?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and walked up to the door, entering before Ron's wide eyes. He had no choice but to follow (unless, of course, he wanted to risk the wrath of Hermione, the charity and the rest of the wizarding world), scowling all the while. If looks could kill, there would be nothing left of Malfoy or his blasted Manor.

"Follow me, Weasley," Malfoy drawled as he climbed the stairs, not even bothering to look over his should to see if Ron would obey. Malfoy knew he had Ron, and that just made it all the more humiliating.

Ron followed Malfoy all the way up the stairs, down a long corridor and into a room at the end. It was clearly Malfoy's bedroom, for the décor was outrageously Slytherin green and silver. Malfoy's parents, as evil as they were, were a little more subtle than _this_. It looked as if someone had thrown up the entire Slytherin common room. As Ron was busy trying to process what Malfoy's plans were, and really hoping they weren't what he _thought_ they were, he heard the door shut and lock, and spun around faster than his legs would take him. He tripped, and would have fell if it weren't for Malfoy's arms that were _right there_ , catching him.

Feeling awkward and uncomfortable, Ron stepped out of Malfoy's electric grasp once he'd gained his balance. He looked from the door to Malfoy and back again, then said in a rather demanding voice, "Why have you locked it?"

"Don't want you getting cold feet."

" _Cold feet_?"

"Yes," Malfoy said matter-of-factly. "Considering you're only ever been with Granger, I imagine you're not very experienced in this department."

"You can't be serious!" Ron said loudly, at last acknowledging the fact that Malfoy had bid on him and brought him to his bedroom to sleep with him.

"Why not?" Malfoy took off his outer robe and threw it across an armchair to his left.

"You can't just... _rape_ me, Malfoy."

"Who said anything about raping you?" Malfoy looked genuinely confused. "I didn't bid on you to have sex with you. Though if you're offering..."

"But you said—"

"That I'd hardly bid on you to play Wizard's Chess?" Ron nodded, and Malfoy smirked. "Yes, but that doesn't automatically mean I'd go straight to fucking you. Talk about taking things to the extreme."

"So what do you want?"

Malfoy shrugged and sat down on the bed next to Ron. "To spend a bit of time with you. Get to know you. The real you, not the you everyone thinks they know."

"You want to be my friend?" If Ron wasn't confused enough before, he certainly was now. Malfoy had spent years having at go at him and his mates, and now all of a sudden he wanted to be his friend? Something very curious was going on here.

"I suppose you could put it like that," Malfoy said softly, placing a hand on Ron's shoulder and gently dusting it off. "More, if you're willing."

"I—I can't," Ron said quickly, too quickly. He didn't really want to confront the fact that Malfoy's touch had set off a spark inside him. He couldn't help it; it felt good.

"You can." Malfoy's voice was quiet and almost a whisper. It was strange; Ron had never seen him so human before. Ron chanced a look into Malfoy's eyes and then turned away, wondering how on earth only a few moments ago he'd thought Malfoy was going to rape him, when now, Malfoy's touch and demeanour were giving him feelings and thoughts he never knew he had.

"We can talk," Ron said, deciding on a compromise. At the very least, it couldn't hurt to talk with Malfoy. He could find out what Malfoy was all about, and what he really wanted.

Malfoy placed a loose strand of Ron's hair behind his ears and smiled, a genuine smile. "Good."

So talk they did. Despite the fact that Malfoy technically only had an hour of Ron's time, from the auction, anyway, they ended up talking for hours on end, way into the night. They talked about their first meeting and how differently things could have been if Harry had accepted Malfoy's hand; their home lives and more specifically, the prejudices and pressures that Malfoy had to believe and put up with on a daily basis; their experiences during the war and the aftermath. Ron found out so many things about Malfoy that he'd never even considered before, and for the first time, he realised that Malfoy had been as much of a pawn as any of them. He'd had no choice in his actions, and was just doing what he could to protect his family.

Just as Ron would. Ron knew he'd die for his family, and he supposed he should have realised it'd be the same for Malfoy too. He also found out that Malfoy had changed so much since the war, and that people's attitudes to him had been fairly disgraceful. Ron now realised exactly why Harry had been so intent on getting the Slytherins involved, and trying to show everyone that it really wasn't as black and white as they made it out to be.

"Master Draco!" A loud house-elf squeaked as it popped into the room, bringing them both out of their chatter. They laid on top of the bed, side by side, reminiscing about their childhoods and the games they used to play. "Is there anythink you is wanting before Missy goes to bed?"

"Bed?" Malfoy frowned, turning to the clock on his bedside table. "Shit, it's nearly four in the morning."

"Four?" Ron jumped up, startled. "Shit! How did that happen?"

"No, Missy," Malfoy said, dismissing the elf. "That'll be all."

"What do I tell Harry and Hermione tomorrow? They'll want to know why you bid on me."

"Harry knows," Malfoy said with a smirk. "Just tell Hermione I did it for a laugh. She'll believe that."

"Yeah," Ron mused, wondering just what he'd got himself into with Malfoy. "And us?"

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow. "What about us?"

"Exactly." Despite the fact that they'd been conversing for hours without any trouble, now they were facing reality again, things between them were awkward. Ron didn't really know what to say or do, let alone how he really felt about Malfoy now. "Look, I'd better go. I'll see you around sometime. You go to bed, I'll show myself out."

Ron was so engaged with his thoughts that he nearly tripped down the stairs, having to hold onto the bannister for dear life. As he left and turned to Apparate, wondering if the feelings he was having about Malfoy were normal, he couldn't help but take a long look at the Manor and think that this wasn't the last time he'd be standing here like this. Not only did that thought arouse a lot of questions in his mind, but it also made him distinctly happy, and he knew that to find out why, he'd have to come and see Malfoy again.

They still had a lot to talk about, at the very least.


End file.
